Did someone say Scotch?

April 17, 2012

The Scotch Egg. Significantly larger on your screen than in real life.

H’mm. It may be that I need to pause this compsition process, and pour myself a couple of fingers of single-malt, now that I’m thinking of it.

But that’s not the Scotch of which I set out to speak. Rather, it’s that quintessential Great Britain pub snack, the Scotch egg. Sort of.

A bit of egg white peeks out from the sausage-and-crumb coat.

These Scotch eggs, you see, are made with quail eggs, which means that the entire completed composition is about four bites, which makes them ideal as hors d’ouevres, or to snack on, or with cereal for breakfast or with a soup or salad for a light lunch.

Plus, they’re just freaking cute.

My 1 1/2 qt. saucepan. Eggs are barely an inch long.

Here are the little teensy eggs, ready to boil. I put a dozen of them in my 1 1/2 quart saucepan, just to give you an idea of the scale. I boiled them about like I do a regular egg, starting in cold water, then turning off when it hits boil and letting it sit.

Peeling the little sweethearts is tedious, to be kind. The membrane is the approximate consistency of leather, it feels like; however, unlike free-range chicken eggs, they separate relatively easily from the shell. The yolk-to-white proportion is much more “yolky” than a chicken egg, leading to a thin spot in most all the whites.

Sausage. Egg. Encase.

Once you have all the little darlings peeled, it’s time to start assembling. I used, I’m guessing, about an ounce of sausage per egg; I estimate that because it was country sausage, which generally comes packaged in a VERY generous pound, and I had enough left over for three patties.

I took about an ounce and a half of sausage, and patted it pretty flat in the palm of my hand. Put an egg in the middle, and folded the sausage up around it sort of like a taco. Pinched off the ends, and rolled the whole conglomeration about in my palms to attempt to seal the egg inside.

Crumbs first.

Each one got a tumble in bread crumbs, and into a pot (using the quart-and-a-half saucepan again) of 325-degree canola oil until it was nice and brown.

They’re excellent with a squirt of spicy mustard. I think they’d also be good with something like Jezebel sauce, or even fig preserves. I’ll probably take them to work to have with breakfast, but they’d make some really impressive appetizers at a party.

So if you ‘n y’mama ‘n ’em can get hold of some quail eggs, I highly recommend these little cuties. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I b’lieve I’ll have me some single malt.